By making several trips, the boys carried ashore all that was necessary. The tent canvas and poles required the combined effort of both clubs.
"I guess you fellows will have to do the 'Bill Agnew' act," said Nat. "Little oil-stove's good enough for me."
"You're only parlor campers," drawled Dave; "we go in for the real thing."
By this time the fog had begun to lighten. Clumps of vegetation were scattered around, while several pools could be dimly seen, close at hand.
"Gee willikins, regular Robinson Crusoe life, this," exclaimed Nat. "Eh, Chubby?"
Dave smiled, then slapped his hand to his face. "Skeeters," he announced; "and plenty of 'em."
"Aren't they fierce?" said John Hackett. "Here's the sun coming out nicely, and we have to fall into a regular bug metropolis."
"Darning-needles and butterflies!" exclaimed Kirk Talbot. "Look at this one! It's nearly as big as the bird that 'Hatchet' shot."
Bob, Sam and Dick soon went off in search of wood, while Tom Clifton and the poet laureate got everything in readiness to cook. The Nimrods pitched their tents, and also began preparations for lunch. In the course of an hour the meals were ready.
"What's on the bill of fare?" asked Bob.